Elissa didn’t care about any of that. She pressed on, “So where did Marcia move to?”


    Lucy hesitated, clearly ufortable. “I honestly don’t know.”


    A pit formed in Elissa’s stomach as she slid into the car, dialing Frank’s number as she pulled the door shut.


    No answer.


    A new WhatsApp message popped up from te.


    It was a hotel room number.


    *Don’t waste your time, sweetheart. Frank’s not interested in talking to you.*


    Outside a secluded manor at the edge of town.


    A ck Maybach rolled slowly through the gates. The driver stepped out, unfurled arge ck umbre, and opened the rear door.


    Frank emerged, tall and imposing, every trace of warmth gone from his features. His storm–dark eyes promised trouble.


    Bernard hurried to greet him. “Mr. Atwater.”


    “She willing to talk yet?” Frank’s voice was ice–cold–nothing like his usual calm.


    Bernard kept pace as they crossed the drive. “Ms. Carson insists she’ll only speak to you. In person.”


    A glint of steel flickered in Frank’s gaze. He smoothed his cufflinks and strode into the basement.


    The woman he’d once cherished–protected, indulged–was now locked in an empty, echoing room.


    Marcia saw him through the bars and lunged for the door, but the iron gate held her back. She shook it desperately, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded, “Frank, please, I know I was wrong! Let me out, please…”


    Once, Frank couldn’t stand to see her cry.


    Whenever she wept, he’d remember a little girl, clutching her father’s hand and darting into traffic–fearless, determined to save him. His heart


    would always soften.


    Even after she’d lost that childhood innocence, he kept forgiving her, kept lowering his standards for her sake.


    But she was never really his little Nine.


    Years ago, after his father’s funeral in Vistapeak City, Frank and his mother had made a trip out to Cresthaven with the family butler.


    But even then, he was toote.


    He’d tracked down the little girl’s address, only for the neighbors to tell him her parents had died in an ident.


    She’d vanished without a trace.


    For years, Frank pulled every string he could, searching for her. Then one day, he spotted a jade pendant at Marcia’s throat.


    And yet, after everything, he still had nothing.


    All those wasted years with Marcia, while his little Nine could be suffering somewhere–if she was even alive.


    The thought snapped something inside him. Frank stormed forward, kicked the heavy door open, and seized Marcia by the throat, mming. her against the wall.


    His knuckles went white, his voice colder than death. “I’m asking you onest time. The jade pendant–how did you get it?”


    His gaze was razor–sharp, catching every flicker of emotion on Marcia’s


    <b>79-19 </b>


    face.


    Her back ached from the impact, and as she looked up at him, she didn’t. doubt for a second–if she lied, he’d kill her without hesitation.


    Terror rose inside her.


    How had the gentle, refined man she knew turned into this?


    Was it really just because she pretended to be this so–called little Nine? Did all their years together mean nothing to him now?


    Why? What did that wretched girl have that she didn’t?


    Jealousy and resentment twisted inside her. Staring at Frank, Marcial suddenlyughed–a chilling, reckless sound. “I stole it!” she spat. “I tore it from the girl you love most in this world!”